


Night Shift

by frubeto



Series: 101 Ways To Bring Back Hugh Culber [1]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 12:01:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14810985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frubeto/pseuds/frubeto
Summary: Paul wakes up to an empty bed again.





	Night Shift

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on my phone while at a very boring party.  
> It's short and almost unedited because I spent so much time on that last fic and I want to stick to the schedule.  
> BUT this will be the start of a series so look forward to that.

 

Paul woke up slowly, his brain still occupied with the remnants of his dreams.

He turned to the side like he always did, to watch the empty space of the bed where Hugh would have been and let the hurt wash over him. It had been months, but at times like this, when he wanted nothing more than for Hugh to hold him, be there for him, smile that stupidly attractive smile and tell him how much he loved him, it was as bad as in the beginning. Without him, he was on his own. And he had completely forgotten how god-awful that felt.

 

The chronometer on Hugh’s nightstand told him it was the middle of the ship’s night, so he decided it was still enough time to wallow in self-pity for a while and closed his eyes, curling up into a ball, pulling the blanket tighter around him, breathing in Hugh’s scent in the sheets, feeling his pajamas on the pillow, neatly folded so he could get into them and the bed as fast as possible once he was off shift.

 

Right.

 

Night shift.

 

Reality came back to him bit by bit. Hugh was okay. He was here. He was back. He had taken the night shift because of his stupid sense of responsibility and the CMO suggesting it could help him get back into work without too much stress.

Paul shook his head and tried to focus on the last few days. Him and Hugh in the mess hall. Hugh kissing him on their couch. Hugh patiently listening to him ramble about his latest project. Anything to convince his aching heart and burning eyes that everything was fine and he could relax and go back to sleep now. He’d made it. Brought him back. He was _fine_.

 

His body wouldn’t believe him.

A sob escaped his throat and he raised his hands to wipe away some of the tears and pull at his hair. Why was this still happening? He had gotten better after Hugh’s return when he could just cuddle up to him whenever needed and make sure he was really there. He thought he was over it.

Apparently he was wrong.

Sighing, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and untangled himself from the blanket on the way over to the bathroom where his reflection greeted him in the mirror and he cringed, turning to pee first. Then he returned to the sink, washed his hands and turned the water to cold to splash it into his face and run damp hands through his hair to get rid of at least some of the disorder. Okay.

 

“Okay,” he said to himself.

 

The sink supporting most of his weight now, he waited until he trusted his voice again.

 

“Computer, locate Doctor Culber.”

 

“Doctor Culber is in medbay.”

 

A shaky exhale.

 

“Okay.”

 

Having the confirmation from the ship’s computer was good. It calmed him down enough to finally be able to think clearly. But it wasn’t good enough. So he checked his reflection once again and made a decision.

 

“Okay.”

 

 

*

 

 

When he arrived in sickbay, back in uniform and hopefully not looking as disheveled as he felt, he stopped once he spotted Hugh.

He was working, as if nothing happened, smiling at a patient, looking like he never did anything else. Like he belonged. For a moment Paul was afraid to approach him, fearing this was only a trick of his mind, a mirage, and he was going to dissolve into thin air if he tried to interact with him.

But no, this was real. Hugh was typing on his PADD now, still not noticing him, but he could, at any moment, turn and smile at him and ask what the hell he was doing down here. His movements were efficient and practiced and 100% _Hugh_ , while still completely unpredictable to Paul. Because this wasn’t just some fantasy his mind produced to keep him sane. He smiled as Hugh turned the PADD off and held it in that particular way of his to chat with another doctor, always polite and calm even when he had admitted to being annoyed by how much everyone was pampering him. There was the way he seemed to never use his hands to talk as much as Paul did, and his unmistakable silhouette, and his slightly tense posture that told him he was getting tired, and the way the white of his uniform looked against his skin and the way he rubbed his thumb and fingers together when he was thinking, and _god,_ he loved that man.

 

“Can I help you?”

 

A nurse had approached him, jolting him out of his thoughts, and he glanced down at her.

 

“Oh. No. I was just-”

 

What _was_ he doing?

 

“I was-”

 

He shook his head and started over.

 

“No, thank you.”

 

Then he walked off in Hugh’s direction, giving her a small smile.

 

“Doctor Culber!”

 

Hugh looked up immediately, confused when he realized who was calling him, but trying not to show it.

 

“Lieutenant Stamets. What can I do for you?”

 

“Do you have a minute?”

 

“Sure, what is it?”

 

Paul looked around pointedly.

 

“In private?”

 

Hugh’s expression changed towards worry while he nodded and led him into an office, where Paul patiently waited for the door to close before collapsing against his chest and hugging him.

 

Hugh let him.

He held him tight, carding through the hair at the back of his head, understanding Paul needed this, listened to his breathing and only once he seemed to have calmed down a bit, asked,

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“I woke up without you,” Paul mumbled into his shoulder.

 

Shit. Hugh squeezed him a little. He should have thought of that. What was all that psychology training good for?

 

“Sorry.”

 

“No.” Paul shook his head, letting go enough to look Hugh in the eyes, his arms still around his neck. “It’s not your fault, just…” He sighed. “Can you not take the night shift? At least for now? When I’m not working?”

 

Hugh was slightly taken aback by the request. Not because he didn’t welcome it, but usually Paul would tell him if he was bothered by something, and then try every possible option to solve it on his own before making it Hugh’s problem or going as far as messing with his work schedule. Which meant he either went through all other options in the time he’d been awake and dismissed them or this was a rare gut decision and his gut did not, under any circumstances, want to wake up to an empty bed ever again. After what he’d been through, how could he deny him.

 

“Of course. I’ll talk to the CMO, see what I can do.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Paul smiled and kissed him softly, then buried himself back into the embrace and made no indication that he planned to let go in the near future. Until a knock to the door broke them apart a few minutes later.

 

“Doctor, you’re needed at bed 3.”

 

“I’ll be right there,” Hugh called, looking at Paul for confirmation.

 

“Will you be okay?”

 

Paul nodded, adjusting his uniform.

 

“I’ll just grab something to eat and check on the lab.”

 

Meaning he would not attempt to go back to sleep and instead be up for hours longer than what would be considered healthy. Hugh wasn’t happy with that answer. But there wasn’t much he could do right now, so he kept his mouth shut. And once he was convinced Paul was ready to face the rest of the world again he opened the door, waiting for him to step out, and with one last touch of hands he was gone again.

 

 


End file.
